


I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles

by merryghoul



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: 1960s, 1962 London Smog, Air Pollution, Choking, Gen, London, Misses Clause Challenge, References to Football | Soccer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/pseuds/merryghoul
Summary: December 1962: Phyllis finds a man walking in a "killer fog" that reminds her of the "killer fog" a decade ago in London.





	I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fmnds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fmnds/gifts).



> This is set sometime before this year's Christmas special, since Call the Midwife never covered the week of smog in December 1962.

Phyllis heard about the “killer fog” in London a decade ago, back in Leeds. The smog was a hideous yellow-black colour. Prior to that “killer fog,” Phyllis didn’t think yellow-black was a colour. The smog was so thick, everything—football games, concerts, even the ambulances—stopped in London. This fog that fell over London, in early December 1962, didn’t seem as horrific as the earlier “killer fog.” But this fog made Phyllis nervous. She didn’t want to drive through it; she was afraid she’d wreck her Minor into a street, or even a person. Phyllis was still haunted by the incident that stripped her of her license only a few weeks ago. And yet she had to drive through the fog, because of the expectant women she had assigned herself to check on. If the “killer fog” claimed at least four thousand lives in December 1952, the women she was checking on, as well as their unborn children, were at risk from dying from this similar fog. 

It surprised Phyllis when she was able to make out a man moving slowly and coughing a lot in this fog. The man was wearing a flat cap, a brown coat, and had a claret and sky blue scarf around his neck. He white hair and wrinkles on his face. The man fell to his knees before allowing himself to fall safely on the side walk, so he wouldn’t injure himself while falling down. He resumed coughing. 

Phyllis knew the best way to protect one’s face in this smog would be some sort of facial mask, like the ones the police wore while conducting traffic in the “killer fog” of 1952. But Phyllis didn’t have any of her masks, let alone the ones the police had in 1952. The closest thing she had was a handkerchief in the glove compartment of the Minor. 

Phyllis stopped the Minor, close to where the man had fallen on the side walk. She grabbed the handkerchief and the keys to the Minor and exited the car, making sure her door was closed to keep the fog from leaking into her car. Phyllis covered her face with the handkerchief. 

Phyllis ran to the man. “Can you put your scarf over your mouth?” 

The man nodded.

“I need you to cover your mouth right now.”

The man covered his mouth with his scarf.

“All right. Can you pick yourself up?”

“I think I can,” the man said through the handkerchief.

“Don’t try to breathe too much. This fog isn’t good for anyone. And if it’s not safe for you, it certainly isn’t safe for me. Now let’s get up and get into my car.” 

The man grabbed Phyllis’ left arm with his free right hand. Together they pulled the man up. After checking to see if anything was close to the Minor’s passenger side, Phyllis hurried the man into the Minor. She then hurried back into the Minor. After making sure all the windows in the Minor were rolled up, Phyllis turned the car on and left the spot where the man had fallen. 

“I remember what happened in that ‘killer fog,’” Phyllis said to the man. “I’m taking you to the hospital, and you’re not going to protest. You’re safer there than you would be on the street or even in your own home.” 

The name of the man who fell onto the sidewalk was Gordon. Before he fell ill on the sidewalk, he was planning to take a bus to Upton Park. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why were you trying to go to Upton Park in this weather?”

“Away game, Miss...” Gordon coughed. His scarf was away from his face.

“Crane. It’s Nurse Crane to you.”

“Away game, Nurse Crane. Been a West Ham fan all my life. Always try to get out to the away games. Almost forgot there was a game on the eighth, at Goodison.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t know where Goodison is.”

“Goodison Park. Everton’s grounds, in Liverpool.” 

“I’m from Leeds, about two hours away from Liverpool. I never did get out to the stadiums in Liverpool. I’m not a huge football fan.” 

Gordon coughed again. “Good, so you know where Liverpool is! I was trying to head out to Upton Park to get my tickets for the Everton game. I always take a bus out from Poplar to get to Upton Park. As you can tell, I didn’t make the bus.”

“And you won’t be taking the bus to Upton Park or to Goodison Park. You’ll have to listen to the game on the radio.” 

 

After Gordon was admitted to hospital, Phyllis called the woman she was trying to make a house visit to before picking up Gordon. “Hello, Elizabeth? I’m sorry I’m late for your visit. There was a man on the street walking through the fog, and I had to take him to hospital. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

Delia approached Phyllis as soon as she was done with her phone call. “How’s Gordon doing? I can’t believe they won’t let me check on him. I’m a medical professional just like everyone else in this building.” 

“They’ve given him oxygen. They think he’ll be okay, but they want to monitor him for at least a day. You should be able to visit him before you leave.”

“I’m sorry I interrupted you on your rounds.”

Delia smiled. “It’s okay. I need a break every now and then from my rounds. But I’ve got to be going, or I _will_ be caught not doing my rounds.” 

“One more thing. Do you know anything about West Ham Football Club? Gordon is a big fan of them.”

“Oh, I don’t know much about them except they call themselves the Hammers and they like to say ‘Come on you Irons.’”

“I think I can use that. Thank you, Delia.”

Delia waved and went down a hallway.

 

Phyllis visited Gordon in the ward he was stationed in after receiving oxygen. “I wanted to check on you before I returned to my rounds.”

“I’m fine, Nurse Crane. Called me mate. He’s bringing over a radio so I can hear the Everton game.” 

“I’ve got to be going, so good luck in hospital. Oh, and come on you Irons!”

“Come on you Irons!”

Gordon sang “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles”--the West Ham variant of the song, which ends with the chant “United! United! United!”--as Phyllis returned to her Minor.


End file.
